Your lips
by beautifulXflowerXJo
Summary: It's hard to think about lips without thinking about kissing, even if the lips in question were Lucy's. EdmundLucy. OneShot. WARNING: Incest


_**Disclaimer:**____**I don't own **__**Chronicles of Narnia**__**! **__**It belongs to C. S. Lewis. **__**The idea/storyline is also not mine, so I don't want anybody saying that I stole it, passing it off as mine! I did warn =]]**_

**Autho****rs note: This fanfic has **_**incest**_**, don't like it, don't read it ;]**

One of the Narnian knights had fallen madly in love with Lucy. Edmund thought it was the stupidest idea he had ever heard of. To be turned into a stuttering fool, to stare with such longing, to lose one's appetite and toss and turn all night instead of sleeping, and all for the sake of _Lucy_!

It was lunacy, and he told her so. She didn't say anything back, which was the truly annoying thing. She had just said, with an airy and even tone, that she's flattered by the attention. That it's sweet.

He wondered if she liked it.

That would just be …

Well, it's not like he cared or anything. It's just that it was a pain, being surrounded by people who were acting so dumb. (Over _Lucy_.)

And, yeah, okay, so she had gotten quite … decent to look at. Edmund hadn't really noticed at first. When he thought of Lucy, he thought of the mad little girl who stole his toy sword and walloped him over the head with it. He'd liked her because she wasn't stupid about stuff the way most girls were (like Susan, for example, with her non-stop babbling about gowns, make-up and handsome princes). Then she'd gotten stupid about stuff, a little, but she was still Lucy. It's just that most of the smacking around has turned verbal instead of physical.

Secretly, he's always been glad about that part. It definitely wasn't right, having a King of Narnia get beaten up by a girl (even if she was a Queen).

Not that he couldn't have taken her. He was just being a gentleman.

But now she was fifteen and he had just turned seventeen, and he realized that it probably won't be long now before she's off and married to someone. Not to Sir Leth, obviously. Sir Leth was an idiot. Lucy would never settle for an idiot.

But to someone.

He wasn't sure he liked that.

For the poor husband's sake, that is.

Still, one day he was walking with her through the corridor after supper, and he saw that she had something in her hand. Parchment. With writing on it. Oh, God, it was a letter. And there was little doubt of who it was from.

Edmund snatched it. Lucy seemed like she was going to put up a fight for a minute, but once he unfolded it, she resigned herself to her fate. She stood there looking every bit the elegant lady, but her eyes were burning with fury. It'd be a lie to say he didn't enjoy that.

" _'Milady,_' " he began in a grand, ridiculous voice. The words bounced off the stone walls. " _'I have tried to suffer in silence, but no longer can I contain my feelings. I know I am only a humble knight' _– yeah, more like a humble jackass—"

"Oh, you're one to talk," Lucy snapped, her resolve melting as she made a grab for the letter. He lifted it easily out of her reach.

"— _'but I must strive to tell you what I feel. My every thought is of your grace and beauty. Your hair—'_ Oh, this is too good, _'—your hair is like the __softest__ of __the __skies__ at dawn__, a sky in which I yearn to drown.'_ Drown in the sky. Right. He's a regular poet, isn't he? Forget knighthood, we've clearly got the next royal bard on our hands. _'Your eyes are __as __bright as diamonds. I long for their sparkle to fall upon me.'_ Ha! Be careful looking at him next time he's around, Lu. You might sparkle him to death with your beauty. _'Your lips...'_ … Your _**lips**_?" His stomach did a weird twisting thing that he didn't think can be blamed on supper. He stared down at the sentence, which referred her lips to ripe fruit. And roses. Suddenly, it's stopped being funny. "Lucy, this is unacceptable."

"I doubt that," Lucy replies, sounding not the least bit concerned. "The man's too shy to even speak to me without stammering."

"Yeah, but – Lucy, come on!" He couldn't believe she was being so calm about this. Was she completely mad? Did she want to get herself _ravished_ or something? "It's inappropriate."

"It's sweet," Lucy said. She had the nerve to look at him like _**he**_was the one being crazy. "It's nothing to worry about."

"I'm going to have to talk with him about this," Edmund declared, more to himself than to her. It seemed really important. He had planned to go on a hunt with Peter tomorrow, but giving Sir Leth a talk about how he was to address the young Queen suddenly threatened to take priority. "Get him to knock it off."

"Edmund, don't be stupid—"

"Lucy," he said, frustrated, wanting to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her, "your _lips_."

"What about them?" she demanded.

He stared down at her. At her lips. Which were … pink. And parted, revealing glimpses of pearly teeth. The stupid comparisons – ripe fruit, roses, all that rubbish – suddenly seemed disturbingly understandable.

It was hard to think about lips without thinking about kissing, even if the lips in question were Lucy's. That, that's just … nature. It's inevitable.

It's—

It's _Lucy_, for Aslan's sake.

"I don't see what the lunkhead's going on about," he said, tearing his eyes away from her. He threw in a scornful laugh for good measure.

"Fortunately, they're none of your concern," she replied crisply. She didn't seem unsettled. He wished she did. It was just like her, to be completely annoying about something like this. She reached over and slipped the letter out of his hand. Her fingertips grazed his skin for a second as she did it. "I'll just take that, thank you."

She turned, graceful as anything, and walked away. Her pace was unhurried – languid, almost. He was preoccupied by the side-to-side sway of her hips, and thought in a muddled, accidental way that _there_, there's something you could drown in, forget the sky at dawn—

Oh, this is so not the thing to be thinking. Ever, in fact.

"You shouldn't encourage him!" he called after her.

"Goodnight, Edmund!" She didn't bother to turn around.

He watched her walk away until he realized he was doing it.


End file.
